


More

by Mottled_System



Series: Kylo X Reader [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, Breeding Kink, CNC, Degradation, Dirty Talk, Dominant Kylo Ren, Double Penetration, Engagement, F/M, Gang Rape, Gangbang, Marriage, Marriage Proposal, Multi, Oral Sex, Rape Roleplay, Roleplay, Rough Oral Sex, Submissive Reader, Triple Penetration, Triple Penetration in Three Holes, Vaginal Sex, consentual non-concent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:47:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23557051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mottled_System/pseuds/Mottled_System
Summary: You're beginning to fear Kylo Ren will never fully let you in, but after a tearful argument, he finally does. And, after a wonderful proposal, blissful wedding, and dreamy honeymoon, he has a delicious surprise for you. Technically a third installment but works well on its own.
Relationships: Ben Solo & You, Ben Solo | Kylo Ren & Reader, Ben Solo | Kylo Ren & You, Ben Solo | Kylo Ren/Reader, Ben Solo | Kylo Ren/You, Ben Solo/You, Kylo Ren & Reader, Kylo Ren & You, Kylo Ren/Reader, Kylo Ren/You
Series: Kylo X Reader [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1599601
Comments: 3
Kudos: 55





	More

The room is silent and full of a tense fear that always seemed to radiate from everyone when Kylo was in the room. You sit at the foot of the impractically long table, important politicians, businessmen and -women, military officials and more line the table. Kylo Ren, Supreme Leader, sits at the head.

“Thank you all for coming,” he says, trying not to sound bored. He’d never been one for public events, but he’d been seeing to it that you were becoming quite capable of that yourself. There had been much scandal at first, a concubine being given such responsibility, such social power. Admittedly, it was strange to you as well- it had been years, now. You had long given up hope that he would marry you. And you figured this must be proof of it- he wasn’t going to wait until you were his wife, because you would not be his wife. Your heart throbs a few times with sadness, but you’re sure to continue to radiate the stoic coolness you put on in public.

Maybe it’s because, as you’ve learned more about politics and the galaxy, it’s become apparent how differently you and Kylo think. You’re embarrassed- and not in the fun way- to remember how blindly, naively, you’d accepted his every opinion as impermeable truth. He was a strong military leader, and he was perfect at expanding the Order amicably and letting the new planets continue to flourish. But, at the same time, he was indifferent to human suffering. He didn’t wreak havoc for profit or some sick, sadistic enjoyment, but he certainly didn’t care when he saw it as ‘necessary’. He didn’t care about the people he ruled. And he seemed frustrated and disheartened when you passionately insisted that he ought to.

You were starting to think you were just too incompatible. You were starting to think this was all you’d ever be, and you’d never convince him to care, and you’d always be  _ so close _ to perfection without ever actually achieving it.

Sometimes you thought you ought to be grateful for being this close. You still adore him, love him, and he loves you, too. He confides in you and dotes on you, and you lavish him and have finally learned how to feel like a whole person without him. That was so much more than so many people got.

People began to stand, indicating that Kylo had finished his speech while you were lost in thought. You stood and began briefly saying goodbye to every single person in the room. Eventually, only you and Kylo remain, and servants scurries in to clean while you walk towards the door. Kylo walks with you silently to your shared quarters, collapsing on the couch as soon as he can.

“God, those are exhausting,” he says.

“You know, I can handle them on my own now.” You say, kicking your shoes off and gracefully slinking onto the armchair. He eyes you for a long moment, not responding. A wave of frustration billows over you and you look away, shuddering. He can see that, of course. You’ve never minded him reading you before now.

He seems to be searching for something to say for a long time. “Is something wrong?”

You open your mouth. You’re not sure how to answer that; you’re not sure. Again, you tense at the realization he can hear you. He looks away, trying to fight his own oblivious frustration.

“I won’t look if you don’t want me to.” His voice is gentle. He’s confused, concerned, and he wants to help. Guilt pours itself over you.

“Not tonight,” you breathe.

He nods and looks over at the dining table. The air between you is strange in a way it’s never been before; you’ve never hidden anything from him, and he’s never not known how to help you. “Did I do something?” He sounds weary and small.

You don’t know how to answer that. “No. I don’t think so.”

“Oh.”

Your heart is aching, and you feel a tear slide down your cheek. “I love you,” you breathe, voice breaking.

He looks at you suddenly, brow furrowing, jaw tensing. He’s terrified, and he is desperate to fix it, but he doesn’t want to make it worse. His eyes are so expressive, and his fear breaks your heart even more. “Why are you saying that?”

Your brows lift slowly. “That I love you?”

He looks down as his eyes begin to glisten, jaw working for a moment. “You’re acting like you’re leaving me,” his voice wavers strongly.

“I’m not leaving you,” you say. “But you won’t- let me-” You sputter off as more tears fall, unsure how to voice your feelings.

“Of course I would let you leave,” he says as he struggles not to sob, tears falling down his own face again. “I would let you do anything.”

“Then let me  _ in _ , Kylo!” You’re surprised by the urgency, the frustration in your voice. He looks at you, utterly lost. “We’re so different now. You don’t talk with me anymore. You don’t  _ feel _ anymore. We’ve gone stale, and whenever I try to- to brighten up our lives, or even get closer to you, you push me away.” You’re crying harder now, shaking in the chair. He’s frowning at the coffee table, listening intently. “You don’t listen to me. You say you want me to help you, but you ignore everything I say! You don’t even like the sex anymore!” You hug yourself tightly as his frown turns to a scowl. “Why are you so intent on keeping me if you don’t care anymore?”

“Of course I  _ care _ ,” he says. “I love you, more than anything could ever love anything. You are- everything to me.” He closes his eyes. “I don’t talk because there’s nothing to say. You’re right- I don’t feel. But there’s nothing wrong with us- it’s just-  _ me _ .” He spits the word like it’s some wretched damnation, and you shudder from the pain as he sits back and glares at the ceiling. “There’s always something wrong with me. And I’m sorry I can’t make you feel loved anymore. I’m sorry I’m not good enough for you.”

“Don’t say that,” you weep out. “Don’t even think that!” You sit forward, staring at his gorgeous face. “Look at me,” you urge, but he closes his eyes again and shakes his head. “Look at me, Kylo.”

Finally, he does. “Why not? It’s true,” he says.

“No, it’s not-” you start.

“You wouldn’t know. I don’t let you. I can’t.” He laughs, but it’s humourless and broken. “I can’t let you in. I can’t do that to you.”

“I am not a fragile little waif, Kylo,” you snap. He tenses, sadness leaving, as if you’re reprimanding a sulky teenager. “And you’re not- you’re not some tragic, unsavable evil. I am a person, who loves and cares and understands and endures- and so are you. So, please, for the sake of both of us, talk to me! We are competent adults and we need to act like that!”

He shakes his head again and looks into the dining room. You take a moment to stretch your back and shift your legs, licking your wounds as you try to think how to carry on the conversation.

But, before you can, he stands and walks over to you, sliding unceremoniously to the floor. He lays his head on your knee, and gently, you begin to play with his hair. “I’m sorry. I don’t know- how to act like a competent adult,” his apology is genuine, but his voice is dry as he repeats your words, as if they taste foul on his tongue.

“You don’t have to do it alone. You’re not alone.”

His eyes close as some mixture of pain and relief floods his face. “I’ve always been alone,” his voice is strained and distant.

“Well, you’re not anymore,” you insist again.

He gives a small, hopeful smile. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry,” you say. “Just… Let me in, okay?” He’s silent for a long moment, so you continue. “I know it’s not going to happen overnight. I know I’m not going to just- magically heal you, or make everything wonderful. But this-  _ we _ \- are only going to work if we do it together. And I can’t bear to lose you.”

“Okay,” he breathes as another lone tear leaves his eyes, warm against your leg.

“You know you don’t have to come. I’ve been doing this for well over a year now-” You start, standing in front of the mirror, looking at his reflection. He’s standing behind you, dressed quite nicely, looking quietly amused.

“I know. And you’re amazing at it.” He wraps his arms around your waist and sets his chin on your shoulder. “But I want to come to this one.”

“I can’t imagine why,” you say. “ _ I _ don’t even want to go to this one. Everyone crowded in a ballroom together for no reason, having no purpose, going on endlessly.”

“You’re such an optimist, darling,” he says. “It’s what I love about you, truly.”

“You’re still so annoying,” you say, and he chuckles into your skin before peppering your neck with kisses. You shudder and lean back into him as he massages your waist delightedly. “Gods, I want you,” you sigh dreamily.

“Mmm,” he says into your skin. “There’s not enough time. You’re not even dressed yet.”

You groan with displeasure. “You’re so mean to me,” you pout.

Kylo laughs softly in your ear. “Oh, am I?”

“Mhmm.” You wrap your arms around his neck from behind and he kisses your face sloppily. You sigh again, grinding your rear into his bulge. If you’re going to be left in the dust, so is he.

He hisses gently, “Believe me, Y/N- every moment I’m not buried to the hilt inside you is torture.”

“Well, I can’t let the love of my life be tortured- the ball can wait,” you whimper.

His eyes flash in the mirror and for a moment, you think you’ve swayed him, but he stands and takes a step back. “Not this ball. Wear your favorite dress.”

Just under two hours later, you were surrounded by so many people it was almost surreal. You didn’t recognize this ship, this ballroom, but it was stunning- everything, including everything anyone wore, was white, red, or black- mostly white, barely black, with a healthy amount of crimson. Kylo had left that detail out; it’s lucky that your favorite dress was black.

And you fit right in with the chic, minimalistic decor. You wore Padme’s dress, a form fitting leather that suited your figure well, and because of the color scheme, you stood out without looking like a sore thumb.

It was almost strange. They served all your favorite foods, your favorite drinks, played your favorite music. Your favorite flowers decorated the large room. Everyone seemed to be acting exactly how they would in your best case scenario. Kylo danced with you and ate with you and talked to you, but he didn’t show you off as aggressively as he usually did, and he let you socialize alone when you wanted.

It was towards the end of the night that Kylo got everyone’s attention, and the room silenced almost immediately. His intense, passionate eyes found you, and he smiled brighter than he ever had when you weren’t alone together.

“Thank you all for coming tonight,” he started. “It means a lot to both me and Y/N.”

You smile out at the crowd, wondering curiously what was going on, then look back at Kylo, giving him a bright smile and inquisitive eyes. He seems excited, and almost flustered.

“I’ve known her for several years now, and we’ve been the center of each other’s universes ever since. She was a stormtrooper, a housekeeper. And I…” His smile falters a bit and he glances down. “She gave me- everything I was searching for. Strength. Purpose. Companionship. Love. She grew from a scared, indoctrinated girl to a strong, capable woman. I’m so grateful to have gotten to witness that.”

You take a few steps closer as the audience reacts. “What are you doing?” You ask quietly, embarrassed.

“She showed me what it feels to care. She taught me empathy. She taught me regard. She helped me grow and heal. I can hope to be half as good to her as she is to me.”

“Kylo,” you breathe. He drops to one knee and looks up at you, a loving, determined thrill apparent in his eyes. You can see the breath swish out of him as he prepares himself, and you gasp in, putting a hand to your chest. “Oh, stars.”

“Will you marry me?”

The galaxy freezes for a short, silent moment, and then you drop onto your knees before him. He seems surprised, but you kiss him before he can speak. “Absolutely,” you say. You know you can’t cry- not here, not in public- but inside, happy tears are raining down like a divine storm.

You dance together for the rest of the night, and everyone is sure to give you congratulations. The blissful night ends all too soon, and before you know it, you’re alone in your chambers once more.

“I honestly cannot believe you,” you laugh out, kicking off your heels and draping yourself across the loveseat. He looks at you for a moment, puzzled, before walking over and picking you right up. You giggle and let him carry you into the bedroom and plop you onto the bed, spreading out.

“What can’t you believe?”

“You threw a ball to propose to me,” you giggle out. “You made a speech. You almost  _ cried _ . I thought you were just going to spring it on me one day, ‘oh, hey, we’re gonna get married tomorrow.’”

He laughs and sits on the bed, taking his own shoes off. “Am I so unromantic?”

“You’re… Unconventionally romantic,” you decide, setting your legs on his lap. He smiles over at you and rubs your feet.

“I can take that, I think,” he says softly.

“C’mere,” you bid. Interest blooms across his face and he drapes himself over you, pressing you down into the bed with his strong, heavy body. He’s careful to distribute his weight well enough not to hurt you, though. You kiss quietly for a long time. “Take me,” you breathe, and in moments he’s pushed your dress up and ripped open your nylons. You shudder with anticipation as he takes himself out and rubs himself against you, readying you both. It’s almost strange to have such-  _ vanilla _ sex, but it is decidedly pleasant. Besides, the love and passion in his eyes makes up for the lack of excitement, and you always get a flush of butterflies whenever you look at him.

You moan as he pushes his way inside of you. You’re wet, of course, but not drenched like you usually are, and it makes him feel even bigger. He shudders as you spasm around him, and his lips find yours.

Like this, so simple, you both last all night. It’s not the intense roller coaster you’re used to, but it’s fantastic- a mindless, gentle bliss. You’re not going to give up the wild sex anytime soon, but you might try this a little bit more often.

He doesn’t grind your hips together when he comes, just bucks his hips wildly. It feels amazing, and when he pulls out, he circles your clit until you’re on the edge, then lets you sink back down. He repeats it until the perfect moment, and then you twitch and mewl in his arms, delighting in the way his seed spills out of your convulsing cunt.

“That was wonderful,” you pur.

“Yeah, it always is,” he says, peppering you with kisses as he lays on top of you again. You both lay there for a while before lazily wrestling each other’s clothes off and curling up tight together.

“I love you, my sweet,” you mutter into his chest, nuzzling into him sleepily.

“I love you more.”

You’ve been the Supreme Sovereign for just over a week, and you’ve been married for just over a month. And, for the first time since then, you collapse onto the sofa in your chambers, entirely alone.

The first three weeks of your marriage had been pure heaven- not only was the wedding unimaginably perfect, your honeymoon had been a rotation of whispered sweet nothings, passionate lovemaking, and wild, intense, degrading debauchery.

Then, your coronation. Another stunning event, but it had been nerve-wracking and dull for you. Then an entire week of meetings, correspondances, public outings, et cetera. Now was the first moment you’d had to so much as breathe for quite a while.

It’s so surreal to you.  _ Supreme Sovereign _ . You have as much power as your husband. You’re making a real difference in the galaxy. Not much remains of the First Order but the names, the phrases. The galaxy is thriving, at peace.

Only a handful of years ago, you were a shoe shiner, a laundry aide, a housekeeper. And now, you control the entire galaxy. You have no idea which thought is more surreal.

You enjoy several hours to yourself, and you hadn’t realized how much you’d needed that downtime. Still, when Kylo returns from his own work, you’re grateful to see him once more- and grateful to be alone and conscious for the first time since your coronation.

“Honey, you’re home,” you coo as he shrugs off his outerwear and kicks off his boots.

“That I am,” he says, watching you as you scurry over to him and wrap your arms around him. He kisses you once, twice, three times, then pulls you into a gentle embrace. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too.” you say, then gently grip his belt. “And I’ve missed  _ you _ ,” you add cheekily, and he laughs at you.

“You’re going to have to wait for that reunion,” he says, and you tut and pout up at him.

“Excuse me, sir, but I am the Supreme Sovereign, and I will take whatever I want.”

He laughs again, then drops down onto both knees. He kisses your hand. “Apologies, your Majesty. But, I assure you, your surprise will be well worth the wait.”

“Ooh,” you pur, stroking his downy hair. “I get a surprise, do I? I might forgive you, then,”

He kisses your stomach gently. “Do you trust me?”

It’s your turn to laugh. “Of course I trust you, Kylo. I married you. That does generally come with the territory.”

He smiles at you and stands, then kisses you briefly. “The surprise is something very new. Of course, we can stop it whenever you’d like.”

“I like new,” you say, beyond intrigued. “When do I get my surprise?”

He smirks at you. “Right after you finish getting ready,” he says. Still holding your hand, he walks backwards, leading you into the bedroom.

“What do I need for my surprise, then?”

He undresses you expertly, careful to tease your skin and give you hungry eyes that send shivers up and down your spine. It’s been far too long since he’s tortured you, given you the sweet pleasure of pain. Your skin is aching for his marks- however he wants to mark you. Your neck is aching for your collar. “Not much,” he says. After he finishes devouring you with his eyes, he ruffles through your wardrobe and pulls out a rather immodest chemise. As you put it on, he finds the matching thigh highs and a supple robe.

“Is it a slumber party?” You ask amusedly as he slides your slippers towards your feet.

He smirks. “There won’t be much sleeping.”

After you’re dressed, he gently braids your hair, and you do look ready for bed. He leans down and peppers your face with kisses. “Is it a spa day?”

He laughs. “No, though that can be arranged for tomorrow, if you’d like.” His hand reached beneath your robe to tickle your skin with the lace of the chemise. “It’s been far too long since I’ve been able to lavish you.”

“Mmm, I agree.”

He kisses you once more, then loosely ties up your robe. “Everything that happens tonight is carefully orchestrated by me. I want you to know that you are safe and entirely in control- as always.”

“Of course,” you say softly.

“That being said, if you want anything to stop, I will. I’ll be in your head.”

“As always,” you say. He kisses you again.

“I’m going to leave for a little bit. Just act like you’re here alone, getting ready for bed.”

“Is that what we’re doing tonight? Acting?” You ask, smiling.

“Yes. Precisely.”

You turn towards him and run your hands over his chest. “Acting like what?”

“However you’d like. It’s all for you.” He strokes your cheek, then kisses you on the mouth. “I love you, pet,”

“I love you.”

You watch him walk away, shuddering from the curious anticipation. Then, you turn, to apply your lotion like you do every night before bed.

About a half an hour passes before you sigh and wander to the bed. You’re growing anxious, impatient, and you have no idea how to trigger your-  _ surprise _ . You sit on the edge of the bed, leaning back a little, and play with your slipper on your foot, relishing in the tickle of the plush against your arousing nylons.

The door slams open and you startle, gasping and jumping almost off the bed. There’s a man in a mask and all black standing there- you assume it’s Kylo, of course- but before you can even wonder how you’d like to respond, there’s a familiar phantom grip on your neck. You gape there like a fish out of water as the intimidating figure saunters forth.

He’s followed by another man in similar clothing, then another, then another. As your body begins to panic, you see six men almost indistinguishable from one another standing there.

Kylo pierces into your mind.  _ Do you want this? _

You don’t even consider it- if he intends for you to do it, of course you want to try. You’ve never imagined being taken by anyone other than Kylo, but the thought of him- giving you to be used, like a communal whore controlled by him, was so arousing you shudder through the Force grip on you.

One of them- you think it’s the third or fourth man, but in truth, the distinction doesn’t particularly matter to you- grabs your hair and yanks you onto the ground. You land on your knees, the Force releasing you, your scalp stinging a bit and your braid now loose. “What are you doing? Who are you? What do you want from me?” You sound entirely authentic and genuinely terrified, and that, too, exhilarates you. You’re suddenly desperate for these men to-  _ violate _ you. Though you  _ think _ that none of these men are your husband, you feel as if, at least for tonight, they are all extensions of him.

Someone grabs your hair and wrenches your head back, then yanks your robe off. You squeal and begin to struggle, then, but he only drags you up by your hair to stand against him. It’s too much pain for you, and Kylo must have felt that immediately, because you hear the man groan with obvious pain.

They must be into that, then- being made to abuse you and punished for their mistakes. The thought of them being dominated by your husband as much and you’re being dominated by them makes you shudder.

You ‘try’ to wrestle free, but he only jerks you around and restrains you, and you pretend to be feeble and trapped. His harsh grip is arousing to you, and the feeling of being forced like this is making you almost delirious. It’s a taste you’d never even consider you’d have.

“Stay still, little girl,” he hisses.

“Please,” you plead. “Just let me go. I- I’ll give you whatever you-”

The man holding you shakes you and another takes several steps closer, grabbing your face and turning it towards his mask. It’s reminiscent of Kylo’s old mask, and the memories of being fucked while staring at that wash over you. “Supreme Sovereign, eh? You’re just another little whore in need of her holes filled.”

You shudder again. “No,” you beg. “Please. I can give you  _ anything _ -”

The man in front of you hits you so hard your head goes flying to the side and you’re left breathless, but not so hard as to go beyond your limits.

“Oh, yeah, Sovereign,” says another man. “You’re gonna give us  _ everything _ .”

“Please,” you plead again, managing to bring tears to your eyes. “When my husband finds out-”

The man holding you suddenly shoves you forward, and the man that hit you tosses you to the ground. You gasp and sputter and stare at the familiar marble tile.

“I’m sick of hearing her whore mouth speak,” says one of them. “Someone plug her pretty little mouth.”

“Gladly.” Someone wrenches you by your hair- though much more mindfully this time- and wrestles you onto your knees in front of him. You protest and ‘try’ to wrangle free, but he gets his semi-hard cock into your mouth anyway and starts to fuck your face rapidly. He’s smaller than Kylo, but still big enough to make you gag with each thrust. It’s not long before your eyes are watering and your brain has faded away. He’s moving your head with his grip on your hair and thrusting into your mouth, and you’re clawing at what little skin you can access around his hips.

“Look at that,” says someone in a voice so perverse it makes you shudder, only making you gag harder against this stranger’s cock. “She looks like she’s done this before.”

“Supreme Leader’s trained his little bitch well,” muses another.

“Her mouth is so fucking great,” groans the man in your mouth. Then, he tugs on your hair. “You hear that, slut? You’re perfect just like this- you’re nothing but a little fuckhole. You’re made for this.”

You whine a protest against him and he hisses in approval, the sound so different from Kylo’s hisses.

“Let’s see some more skin,” growls the pervert, kneeling behind you and thrusting a knee up into your cunt. You squeal in response. “Oh, fuck,” he laughs out. “She’s already fucking wet.”

You try to shake your head vehemently as laughter and cruel comments sound. The pervert rips open your delicate chemise, and the precious fabric hangs around you obscenely. He strokes a gloved hand against your slit, then holds it up. It must be visibly wet, because they react again. The pervert leans closer to whisper: “You can pretend to struggle all you want in the name of your useless fucking decency, but your body is all too eager to be used like you so want to be.”

“We’re gonna fuck that sense of pride right out of you, and make you into the walking fuckdoll that you are.”

The pervert manages to slide beneath you, then impales you on his strangely fat cock. He’s so different from Kylo, so different from the man in your mouth. You weep and faintly hit the man’s legs, ‘trying’ to wrench away from him. As the pervert begins to bounce, it only thrusts you further up to engulf the other man’s cock. You’re used to suckling on Kylo’s fingers while he fucks you- in fact, it’s one of your favorite things- but this is an entirely different sensation.

Another man grabs one of your wrists. “Give me that hand, stupid slut,” he mutters, as if annoyed with an unruly animal. He forces your hand into a fist and fucks it, and you excitedly tense and swirl your wrist, barely bothering to make it seem like you’re struggling instead.

“Me, too,” says yet another, taking your other hand and fucking that one as well.

Someone kneels behind you again and starts roughly groping your ass, smacking it and scraping it with the tips of his finger. You squirm with delight thinly veiled as fear.

“Stop,” says the man behind you-  _ Kylo _ . You’re almost surprised as every other man instantly pauses. After a moment, the last remaining person crawls over and removes his mask, revealing a face only vaguely familiar to you. He begins to suckle and and nibble on your breasts, groping them and rolling them in his hands.

You wrench your head back as only Kylo and the unmasked man continue. “Please,” you sputter, your voice guttural from being throat fucked for so long. “Let me go.”

“That’s not going to happen,” hisses Kylo. He sounds vaguely similar to his cool, distant demeanor the first time he’d ever fucked you, and that makes your shudder. “You’re going to be here, getting fucked by perverted strangers, forever.”

“Kill me,” you beg.

Suddenly, Kylo yanks you back towards him by your throat and hisses in your ear: “Don’t tempt me, you worthless fucking slut.” Then, he shoves you back towards the first man’s hips.

You hear Kylo unsheath himself and spit on his cock. You wonder what in the stars he’s planning to do with that- he can’t possibly imagine he’ll fit in your pussy with the pervert in there still? You warn him mentally you don’t particularly want him to try. Without response, he leans you forward, arching your back. You moan from the tension on your filled pussy.

Then, you feel Kylo’s soaked head prodding at your asshole, and you gasp.

_ Yes. Stars, yes. _ “No!” You cry out. “Not there- please-”

He shakes you, his cock coming dangerously close to ripping into you. “Shut the fuck up, you obnoxious whore. No one is going to take pity on you. No one cares whether you want this. Just shut up and take it.”

“Please-” you gasp. With an annoyed snarl, he slams into you and shoves the first man’s cock down your throat at once, and your brain short circuits for a long moment before the pain starts to throb, but in a moment Kylo has tempered it out to a much more manageable level. Everything resumes at once, and suddenly, you're absolutely full, every part of your body being used.

It feels like years they fuck you, all of your holes drenched and greedily accepting each glorious cock. It’s Kylo’s thrusting that dictates all of the fucking now, and he’s unprecidentally rough with you. He’s also a lot less careful to keep his own mind unmerged with yours- the two of you are basking in each other’s pleasure, both on the brink of total mindlessness.

“This filthy fucking slut is mine,” he snarls in an animalistic voice. “If any one of you comes on her I’ll slice your fucking cocks off.”

Only minutes after, they each pull out of you in quick succession to come into their own hands. Then, it’s only the unmasked man still worshiping your chest and Kylo furiously pounding you with wild abandon. You’re groaning and gasping wordlessly into the air, making so much more noise than usual. They’re still watching you, some of them still stroking themselves.

“Uuuuh-oh-ooooh,” the sounds that grind themselves through your mouth are slutty and desperate. “Yes- yes- yes,”

Kylo yanks you back by your hair and snarls into your ear. “What was that, cunt?”

“Yes,” you say. “Yes, yes, yes, yes yes yes!”

He laughs at you maliciously and shoves your head forward. Your body is apparently too exhausted to support itself after that, because it sags into the unmasked man, and he happily supports you.

“Such an easy slut to break,” remarks someone.

“What a weak whore our Supreme Sovereign is.”

“Please, please,” you beg. “Fuck me harder. Fuck me deeper with your filthy fucking cock!”

Kylo growls at you and does just that. You feel like you’re being ripped in two in the most delightful of ways. “I still don’t want to hear your fucking voice, stupid cunt.”

You come three times over the next ten minutes, and by the end of the last one you’re weeping for real. You feel so fucking dirty for coming from being taken in your ass- especially since you’ve never once come from vaginal penetration alone.

Kylo yanks you back towards him again. “Tell me what you want, bitch. I just might give it to you.”

“Breed me,” you gasp, your voice preternatural and almost entirely unfamiliar. “Fill me with your bastard seed.”

He yanks out suddenly and slams into your pussy, stretching your ass open with his thumbs to the point of pain. You fall forward again and the unmasked man hastily catches you. As Kylo gapes your winking, abused asshole, he comes inside of you for so long you’re almost sure he’s used the Force to make it last so long.

Kylo and the unmasked man pull away, letting you collapse gently onto the floor, panting. Kylo’s stroking your side, intimate enough to be comforting but not romantic enough to be out of place in the scene.

“Good little puppy,” he says. “Bark for me.” Weakly, you bark several times, and he slaps your ass repeatedly. Then, he leans down and kisses your cheek. “What do you want?” he whispers softly.

“More,” you coo. “You. Just you. Sweetly.”

“Get out,” Kylo instructs, gently lifting you and carrying you to the bed. The others do as they’re bade as your husband lays you reverently on the bed.

“That was-” you stop, unsure how to describe it.

He smirks. “Yeah, it was.”

“I love you,” you gasp.

“I love you, too, Y/N.”


End file.
